SpellSong
by WingedWolf121
Summary: In a court ruled by the art of music, the ability to Sing is a prized commodity. But not even Singers, the creatures born with pure Song, are immune to court drama. Nor are Wizards, masters of the arts of Song. But mere Song may not save them. St. Hummel


**Title: Court of Music**

**Disclaimer: While I'm fairly sure the idea of Singer slaves and courts and such was planted in my head by a combination of Andre Norton and the Companions from Firefly (and the whole music=magic/weapon by Albus Dumbledore "Ah music, a far greater magic than any we teach here"-the Sorcerer's Stone) , I know with total certainty that these characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy.**

**A/N: Um. Yeah. Fair warning, this will be St. Hummel, and Tike, and probably Quinn/Sam. Likely even Finchel, because they both anger me enough for me to put them with each other simply because no one deserves to put up with either of them.**

**This is the most random and strange thing I've ever written. And I'm not sure it makes sense. So anyone utterly lost, review with questions. Also, this will probably be updated a bit sporadically. Just a warning. **

"You brought me a _male_ Singer?" Prince Finn stared in disgust at the small figure before him. It stood directly between two of his knights, chains fixed to both wrists and ankles. _"Male?"_

"Sir, the trader only had one. He said it was exceptional." Sir Mike said desperately. He and Sir Sam had brought the slave, and neither knew enough about Singers to do anything but trust the trader's word.

"I don't want a male!" Prince Finn's face flushed an ugly reddish hue. "It's tiny anyways!"

Sir Sam nudged the creature with his elbow, hoping to prompt a display of talent. It hadn't said a word, or opened it's mouth to Sing, for the whole ride from the coast. Sam assumed that was normal.

But the Singer _was_ tiny. It had porcelain skin and light brown hair, remarkably beautiful but not worth what they'd had to pay. It's blue eyes were downcast. For all Sam knew, it had no idea what was going on, or what to say in a Royal court.

"Highness, don't you think you might let it perform?" Lady Quinn interjected. "You needn't take it to bed, if that particular task strains your abilities so."

The entire court hushed, from the maids serving wine to the garrison of knights. The only sound was a muffled snort from the King's Personal guard.

Prince Finn scowled. Behind the throne, King Will winced. He glanced at the court magician, one of the people at court who had no problem with reining in his occasionally wayward son.

"Well?" Prince Finn said, getting off his throne to examine the Singer. His height made it look even smaller. "Do something, if you want to be fed."

Sir Sam and Sir Mike prudently stepped back. The chains fixing the arms and legs of the Singer clanked as they did. The Singer stayed still, staring at the floor.

"Do something. Sing for me." The Singer continued to ignore Prince Finn. Not one note fell from it's lips. Prince Finn's face grew darker as a few more giggles circulated the hall. It wasn't often anything disobeyed Prince Finn. "Sing!"

It didn't even look at him.

Finn hit it. That elicited a sharp burst of noise, uttered in a high voice. The Singer fell to the floor, tangling it's chains and almost pulling both the knight's off balance. It fell awkwardly, scraping bare knees and elbows on the chains. The trader had dressed the Singer in rags, so that it's knees and elbows poked from holes and the looseness of the clothing emphasized it's thinness.

Prince Finn raised his hand to deliver another blow. The Singer whimpered, turning the bright pink side of it's face from the crowds.

A cloaked man's hand caught Finn's wrist before he could hurt the Singer again. This figure had appeared from the shadows by the throne, gliding over tiles unnoticed until he reached Finn.

"Your highness. Not only is it conceivable that he either doesn't speak or doesn't speak English, but this is wanton cruelty." King Will sighed, in relief as the court wizard stepped in. "Knights, take him to my chambers."

Sir Sam and Sir Mike levered the Singer up between them. It flinched from contact and shuffled between them without resistance.

"It's mine!" Finn said belligerently. The Wizard released his wrist and stepped back. He took a deep breath.

"Finn! Jesse, you're free to keep the Singer for now. See if you can reason with it." Will recognized that breath as a precursor to a SpellSong. It was never wise to anger Wizards, those who held Singer blood but human minds. Nor wise to allow your son to quibble with a man hired to teach him the art of music.

"Thank you, your highness. Prince Finn, that tone will do your vocal chords no good." Jesse faded back into the shadows by the throne. Finn settled back on his seat, still looking mutinous.

"Finn, get over it." Lady Quinn snapped her fingers, ushering forward a maid. "Tina, fetch Sir Mike and Sir Matt. They can dance for us, since we have no one willing to Sing."

Tine curtsied and followed her orders. She didn't resent it. Quinn was a good mistress, willing to overlook her maid's stutters and fits of distraction. Lord knew her mistress had enough to anger her, what with Princess Rachel visiting and raising up and riot and that business with finding a husband…well, it made Tina grateful she hadn't been born royal. And that Quinn very rarely took out that anger on her servants.

"Tina!" Sir Mike trotted down the corridor. "Do you have a moment?"

"L-lady Quinn requests y-your and Sir Matt's p-presence in the hall. F-for dancing." The knight looked a bit frustrated. "S-sorry."

"It's fine. Matt's most likely in the barracks, I'll find him." Mike bowed to her and went to fetch Sir Matt. Tina blushed harder and scurried back into the hall.

* * *

><p>"Hello there. You needn't be afraid, I don't plan on hurting you." Jesse hung his cloak on a bed post. The Singer was cross legged in the exact center of the bed Jesse had brought up for him. The glittery silver chains stretched from his wrists and ankles, connecting to a ring set in the wall.<p>

Dark lines were etched into the stone floor around the bed, where Jesse had used SpellSong to make a barrier. It would only show if the Singer tried to move past the lines, but Jesse could feel the unsung notes quivering in the air over them.

The Singer kept his mouth shut. His eyes, oddly empty, looked past Jesse.

"You were captured by the North Forest, by the edge of the Queen's Kingdom, correct? The traders brought you down the coast in a boat. Then Sam and Mike bought you, and took you by horse to the palace." Jesse waited for a response.

There was nothing.

"_Do you speak English?"_ Jesse Sang. The Singer's eyes flicked to Jesse, opening wide. _"Will you sing with me?"_

The reaction was the lifeless look in the Singer's eyes being replaced with a only slightly less empty gaze. Jesse was tempted to use SpellSong, but that would only scare the boy.

"_Do you have a name? Something I can call you?"_ The Singer started to nod, then cut himself off. Jesse counted that as a good sign-intelligence was in him, at least to some extent. _"You won't tell me?"_

No reaction.

Jesse sighed and began unbuttoning his tunic. If he wouldn't talk, that was that. Jesse only looked up when he heard a barely audible squeak. Now there was fright in the Singer's eyes.

Oh.

"_I won't force you to pleasure me. That's why you thought I took you? We do have separate beds."_ Jesse wished he could say that he had no interest being pleasured by the Singer, but it was impossible to lie in Song. Damn. All the same, Jesse viewed the traditional enslavement of a Singer as a barbaric practice, and not one he would ever implement. If the Singer was willing that was a different matter, but he rather obviously was not.

There was a vaguely questioning look in the Singer's eyes. _"You are here because I volunteered to care for you. This room, especially your portion of it, are the only Spelled rooms in the castle, excepting the cages Singer's are normally kept in. You would have gone into one of those, likely without food, at Finn's command."_

The Singer relaxed minutely.

Jesse sighed. He told himself to have patience. He'd broken the language barrier at least, and Jesse was convinced the Singer would be more cooperative after a few days of being unable to go anywhere but the length of the chains. Jesse got into bed and Spelled out the golden globes lighting the chamber.

"_One other thing, Singer. This room is quite well Spelled. I do not advise attempting escape."_

Jesse slept.

* * *

><p>"Work, work, work. Scrub the floor Mercedes, make sure there are the proper salts for the bath Mercedes, find the proper dishware Mercedes. I get no respect." A maid got to her feet, panting. "And then go fetch some wine. Hell to the Naw."<p>

Tina only rolled her eyes. This rant was a familiar one.

"This damn princess has to have her tub just so, and these ugly" Mercedes pointed at the dresses Tina was hanging in the wardrobe "_things_ organized just so, and did she not get the message that hoop skirts were never in style?"

Tina had to agree with that. Princess Rachel's wardrobe was the most preposterous ensemble of clothing Tina had seen in her life (and that included Lady Lauren's lemon meringue dress). And her demands were somewhat extreme-did it actually make a difference if her chair was aligned towards the window or the mirror? Or what type of flowers were to be allowed on her mantelpiece?

But things could be worse. They could be working in the kitchens, trying to think of meals which would meet Princess Rachel's specifications.

"Did you hear about the new Singer?" Oh, good. Now that the rantings were over, they could gossip.

"The Wizard has him locked up. He wouldn't sing for Prince Finn."

"Hold up. _Him?_" Mercedes interrupted. Tina nodded.

"Prince Finn was _so_ offended he was brought a male. And he was so small, and he just looked pathetic in those rags!" Mercedes shook her head. "But he was a pretty thing."

"Lady Emma sent me running for supplies earlier. They didn't bring him in damaged did they?" Tina frowned.

"No, of course not. Mike and Sam wouldn't pay Singer's price for anything broken. Prince Finn hit him." Mercedes froze.

"He what?"

"Right across the face, as soon as people started laughing. He was going to do it again, but the Wizard stepped in and made him stop." Mercedes chuckled.

"Oh, I'd have liked to see that. Creepy, dangerous, and unhelpful as that Wizard is, he sure can put Finn in a stew. King Will would be smarter to choose someone else for his son's singing lessons."

"Such as?"

"Good point. But damn, that would have been fun to watch."

"Where were you anyway?" Tina asked. "I'd have thought Lady Lauren would be all over a banquet, and we knew Finn had sent for a Singer."

"Lauren was going to arrange details for a tryst, but she decided to torture Puck a bit instead. I ended up sharing a meal with her in chambers." Tina giggled.

"So that's why Puck looked so mad by the time the banquet was over." She stopped her work sorting clothing long enough to laugh. "By the time King Will dismissed us, he was at the point of spitting on the floor. In fact, it was probably only Prince Finn's lack of pleasure that stopped him from storming off as soon as Sir Mike and Sir Matt had finished the entertainment."

"Prince Finn probably found someone else." Tina shook her head.

"I heard him muttering with King Will." One of the reasons Tina and Mercedes had their wealth of gossip was that no one noticed Tina. She'd been serving Finn a platter of meats and he hadn't even looked up from conversation. "Princess Rachel is a new marriage prospect, he won't endanger that by paying a whore. That's why he wanted a Singer so badly."

Mercedes laughed under her breath. "That'll be fun to tell Lauren. She's been looking for more information to dangle under Puck's nose for a week." Mercedes nudged Tina. "You'd be an excellent assassin, know that? No one would see it coming.

* * *

><p>The Singer either woke up before Jesse did or didn't sleep at all. He was watching when Jesse woke up and dressed, and was still alert when Jesse returned from bathing. For a second Jesse could have sworn his eyes turned green.<p>

Perhaps Finn's blow had stunned him, and that was the caused of the Singer's unresponsiveness last night. One side of the Singer's face had already turned mottled purple and grey, visible even with the his head angled to hide that cheek. Jesse would have to bring Lady Emma in to see to the wound.

"_Do you feel better?"_ The Singer stared at him, but with a more alert gaze than that of the previous night. _"There's a chamber pot beneath the bed, if you have need."_

The Singer glared.

"_I'm not letting you out of the Spell, if that's what you want."_ Jesse sighed when he saw the stubborn cast to his prisoner's face. _"Does your face hurt?"_

If his eyes hadn't been glaring, the Singer might have been a marble statue.

"_I'm going to find a healer, Lady Emma, and have her put medicine on your face. After that, I can bring you a meal."_ Even Singers needed food. Jesse doubted a slave trader would have removed a gag long enough for a Singer to feed.

Jesse found Lady Emma without trouble. She was in her stone garden, cleaning off another statue. And she was more than happy to see to a patient.

"This is him." Jesse gestured to the Singer, still sitting on the bed. Jesse saw that the chamber pot had moved. Lady Emma hesitating before stepping over the black lines, but they were only designed to keep a Singer in, not to hinder a human.

"Hello?" The Singer shifted away from her.

"_This is Lady Emma. She's here to tend to your face. If you don't let her, it will take far longer for that bruise to go away. Lady Emma won't harm you." _The Singer sat absolutely still as Lady Emma sat on the bedspread.

"Singer?" She took a cloth out of her bag. "Will you come closer?" Jesse translated it into Song.

The Singer looked between the both of them. He hesitantly wiggled across until Emma could reach out and touch his face. The healer had a gift, if not one that was widely acknowledged. She frowned, disapproval lining her normally sweet features.

"Finn hit him very hard." Lady Emma took out a glass vial and dribbled some clear liquid on the cloth. The Singer, to Jesse's surprise, let Emma dab at this face with her cloth. She withdrew after a moment, to take of a different vial out of her meticulously organized bag. The contents of this were more paste than liquid, and bright green.

Emma put a dab on a new cloth. The Singer didn't flinch when she began applying it to the bruise, though that paste _stung_. Emma had treated Jesse's battle wounds with that paste, and it hurt almost as much as the original injury.

Curious.

"There. Now don't wash it off your face, or you'll just need a fresh coat. Don't touch it, and especially don't swallow any. As soon as it turns blue, call me." Jesse translated, feeling very bad for the Singer. Finn might not have Mike's agility, or Matt's precision, or Sam's dedicated hours of practice. But brute strength? He had that in spades.

Jesse probably should have intervened sooner. Before the Singer was actually hit.

"Thank you Lady Emma. We'll summon you as soon as it's necessary." She bobbed up and down in a curtsy. Emma always reminded Jesse a bit of a small bird when she did that.

As soon as she'd left Jesse summoned a jug of water and a tray of food from the kitchens.

A maid whose name was probably Mercede brought it up. She unsubtly tried to look around him for a glimpse of the Singer when he opened his door.

"Thank you Mercede." Jesse said in his most insultingly civil tone. He mentally cheered his height and billowing cloak for blocking the view. "Bring message to the Lady Lauren: The Princess Rachel has Singer blood."

The maid scowled, but left. Jesse's arsenal of private information was his sole bond with Lady Lauren. Whenever Jesse wanted to spread something around the castle, if only because Finn wanted it kept quiet, he delivered it to Lady Lauren. She enjoyed dangling her knowledge in front of Puck, and Jesse loved knowing that Finn was annoyed.

Speaking of which, he was late for the lessons he was supposed to be teaching Finn.

"_Food for you."_ Jesse Sang. He stepped over the black lines, feeling his own SpellSong enfold him. It was a sort of comforting feeling.

The Singer moved away when Jesse sat on the edge of the bed. The green coating covered half his face from his jaw line to his eyebrows, leaving his eye warily open. It really wasn't blue, Jesse mused, there's a grey tint, and hint of green. And even though they were wary, he wasn't readying himself to Sing a blow at Jesse. Assuming he knew BattleSong, not just the simple Song which came to all Singers naturally.

Jesse pulled his thoughts away from the enchanting creature and set down the tray of food.

"_I need to leave. If you need anything at all, tell me when I return. The food is not poisoned, have no fear of it."_ Jesse got up to leave. He lingered inside the Spell, hoping the Singer would respond.

When nothing happened, Jesse was forced to leave him. King Will would be irate enough without Jesse missing the lesson altogether.

**A/N: Please, please review. This is one of those things I desperately want to hear other people's opinions about.**


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